ebb tide
the sand castle moat
still showing clouds

seaside café
the wind ripples
my oyster soup

again negotiations fail
the clay path broken
by a mushroom

our first meeting —
a snowflake melts
on my lips

bedtime story
my grandfather’s fingers
touching the Braille

morning sun —
fish scales glisten
in the otter scat

his passing —
the magenta chrysanthemum
            still fresh

end of twilight
duck wings whistle
above the path

Tracings of snow
on the forest boughs —
a horned owl’s face

icy wind
the garbage can rolls
back and forth